


Little Birds Can Remember

by houtarou



Category: Hyouka & Kotenbu Series
Genre: F/M, One Shot, Post-Canon, honorifics used
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-24
Updated: 2016-01-24
Packaged: 2018-05-16 01:40:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5808358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/houtarou/pseuds/houtarou
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Oreki Houtarou is forced to go shopping for a party with Chitanda Eru, but it's not a date- he swears.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Little Birds Can Remember

**Author's Note:**

> hello! you may know me as that_epic_turtle on wattpad or you're new to me, either is fine! i originally posted this on wattpad, but this will be my first published work here! i hope this one shot isn't too boring or terrible.

Houtarou awoke with a _thud_ on his bedroom floor and a throbbing in his pajama bottoms.

A comforter tangled in his lower body, and both his heads ached. His heart danced a lively beat, though it eventually slowed. He waited until it had stopped jumping in his throat, and resumed its steady rhythm inside his rib cage, to get up with a low grunt.

It was Sunday. Midday sun leaked wetly through his window and into the room, spilling in slits over his bed and onto the floor. Houtarou placed the comforter on the wrinkled mattress, rubbing his face. He noticed sweat on his forehead and reddening his cheeks, and a stiff cowlick erecting a thick lock of hair. And speaking of upright...

He sat on the edge of the bed quickly, face and ears bright from something other than perspiration. _What_ had _I been dreaming about?_ Houtarou pulled on his bangs between his index and thumb. All that came to mind was black and purple and a rose-colored life. "Not that it matters," he mumbled to no one in particular. Today was his day off. That meant no thinking.

Taking a shower was to be first of what, to Houtarou's immense pleasure, seemed like a very, very busy day. He crossed the hall to the bathroom with an armful of clothes, the pads of his feet tapping on the wood floor, and grabbed a towel from the linen closet. Shutting the door, he began to strip.

Yes, Oreki Houtarou was going to be occupied today. In the head of that young high school boy, his hands were going to be full doing exactly what he daily hoped to do: nothing. Yet, to the minds of several others, the word "nothing" didn't quite apply to Houtarou's agenda.

While in the shower, he acquired another piece of information to add to the list of things he remembered about last night's dream. _Water. Hot water._ That puzzle piece appeared to come to him only in exchange for muddling what he'd known beforehand. Now, all Houtarou could remember was hot water and a rose-colored life. And that, apparently, turned him on.

_No thinking today_ , he reminded himself, turning off the water. The air directly outside steamy fog raised goosebumps on his body, though it wasn't particularly cold. Houtarou dressed in a wrinkled tee shirt and plaid boxer pants, not unlike his former outfit.

He put the damp towel and dirty clothes in the wicker hamper. Even wet, his wavy brown hair stuck up in unpleasant places. Houtarou slid his fingers up through the front. It stuck back for a second before slapping forward stubbornly. He deadpanned.

The television buzzed when he opened the bathroom door and left. In the Oreki residence, a hallway containing two bedrooms and a bathroom led to a large living space in which was a kitchen and a main room, separated by a marble island.

To this was where Houtarou went, checking the time on the stove. 11:47. Just thinking about kitchen furniture reminded him of an actual isle, surrounded by water on all sides. Solo. Desolate. Population: 1. He stopped unwrapping a loaf of bread to daydream wishfully.

"Make me something too, won't you?" a voice called from the living room.

"Yeah," he responded softly. His sister, clearly, had come home. She was usually out, around the world or something ridiculously energy-wasting, instead of at home. On the side of the island that faced the television, Houtarou could see the back of her head and a hand raised in thanks.

Two sandwiches. To think that this would potentially be the most energy he'd have to use in 24 hours drove him nearly mad with bliss. _A reward_ , he congratulated himself. _My first Sunday after end-of-year finals._ All Houtarou felt like was a ham sandwich, so that's what his sister would have as well. Something not too exotic to eat. He almost laughed. It was an extremely common food in America, sandwiches- that should hold her off for lunch.

But they had no time to argue- or, _she_ couldn't argue- because as soon as Houtarou handed her the finger food, the house phone rang. "I'll get that," she called unnecessarily. As long as she was home, the first person to pick up the phone was eternally her. Not like he cared.

The elder Oreki stood, stretching with the sandwich in her mouth, and left to get the phone, leaving the younger with full couch access. He slumped down, watching the animated pixels and chewing. "Today, like many other years, crowds and crowds of people will enjoy the dinnertime celebration of..." The screen showed a normally filled shopping street. The camera flicked to a grandma and young girl praying at a shrine for wishes, the new reporter droning on.

"Oh, Fukube-kun?" Houtarou found himself not really paying attention to his sister or the news. Instead, he felt mild shock at the latest installment of What Part of My Dream do I Remember? His hands, on a pair of shoulders. Warm shoulders. Hot water. What did it all _mean_?

"Yes, he's finally awake." She laughed.

Irritation filled Houtarou. The remnants of a little dream was beginning to ruin his break. He pushed his chin into the base of his neck, sighing.

" _Houtarou!_ It's Fukube-kun!"

"I'm right here," he grumbled, sitting up. Houtarou finished his sandwich and then got up, way sooner than he personally felt was morally acceptable. He took the phone. "It's Houtarou."

His sister ruffled Houtarou's hair, and he pushed her hand of and away impatiently, listening vaguely to Satoshi chat a mile a minute about going shopping with Chitanda. Wait, that was wrong. _Houtarou_ going shopping with _Chitanda_. That must be, too.

"H-hold on, Satoshi!" he interrupted in bafflement. "What are you talking about?"

Satoshi chuckled very Satoshi-like, and this was not a laughing matter. "Maya-san and I decided... Well, for things to be fair... You and Chitanda-san would be going to shopping together for the Classics Club's party tomorrow."

"This is the first I've heard of a party."

"Usually, on the last day the seniors are allowed in their club, the club's members hold parties or the like to celebrate them going-off." _Leave it to the database._ "Since the Classics Club's members are all first-years, Maya-san suggested we throw a party for ourselves. Like, the revival of the rarest club."

Houtarou stifled an exasperated noise. "Why do I have to go?"

"You shouldn't talk long," Satoshi rushed. "I told Chitanda-san to arrive at your house at noon, that being the most convenient time."

His eyes whirled to the stove. 11:55. " _Satoshi_ -"

"See you tomorrow, Houtarou!" And Satoshi Fukube hung up before he could justifiably get too angry.

Houtarou kind of stared in disbelief at the receiving end of their house phone for a minute. Immediately after, he stumbled to his room to find something decent. _What kind of excuse could ward off even Chitanda, without hurting her feelings or making her feel too inconvenienced?_

His sister came down with the flu? _He _did? Today was Sunday, the day of rest? The weather didn't look too good; would she like tea instead? But it was sunny outside. Houtarou rested on: _I don't have any money, and my sister was just about to send me off for groceries._ Even though he contradicted himself, she should buy it. She _must_.__

He pulled on a gray v-neck tee and shorts, exhaling. _So much for no thinking today_ , he resigned gloomily.

"Chitanda-chan!" exclaimed Houtarou's sister. He stiffened, his fingers jerked, and he dropped the shoe he was just bending over to shove on. He paused, listening. "Yes, yes, come in! Would you like some tea? We only have convenience store brand right now; is that alright? I'm sorry about that."

A high-octave reply, jumpy and definitely Chitanda's despite muffled by Houtarou's closed door.

"Oh, Houtarou? He's probably in his room-" Chitanda interrupted quickly (probably embarrassed she asked her question) "-eh? not at all- and he'll be out shortly. Here- sorry I don't have a kotatsu or a table out, if you mind." Houtarou rolled his eyes at his sister's china doll-smooth formalities, slipping on the dropped shoe.

"I was just about to start hollering for you," she said as he finally, _finally_ , entered the room. Chitanda certainly looked relieved. She smiled with her entire body; starting with her upturned lips and far too wide, purple eyes; and ending with her shoulders raising and her hands clenching into- happy?- fists.

Most of her dark hair was pulled back into a ponytail with a pink scrunchie, and yet it still managed to reach her upper back. She was clad in a white dress and pink blouse, similar to the first time they'd met outside school, in that warm tea shop. The fact that Chitanda was female stuck out blatantly in every way, and Houtarou almost had to look away.

"Oreki-san!" she greeted. "Sorry for the interruption. Oreki-onee-san was just making tea."

"Hello, Chitanda-san."

His sister immediately got to her feet. As she passed Houtarou, she ruffled his hair and stated, "I've got work. I'll leave you two alone, now." Behind his ray of vision, the older Oreki must have done some suggestive gesture, like a wink, by way of Chitanda's gasp and blush.

She helped him clean the tea tools- which he hadn't used any of- and then asked, "Are you ready to go?"

Now was his chance. "Uh, actually, I don't have any money on me. Sorry about that..." Houtarou trailed off.

Chitanda brightened. She lifted a handbag that had been slung across her, and took out a salmon pink wallet. Inside the wallet was a card with the school information and many numbers on it. "I talked the club manager into letting us borrow it for today."

"Who's the club manager?"

An innocent glint in her eyes. "Mayaka-chan."

_Ibara? I think that's against the rules..._ "My sister was going to send me to the grocery."

"Was she? I could've _sworn_ Oreki-onee-san and Fukube-san _and_ Mayaka-chan told me you'd be free." _Damn those three._

"The weather doesn't look too good today."

"Oreki-san, are you avoiding me?"

His green eyes slid to the side in discomfort. "No, I just... Why _both _of us?"__

Chitanda looked embarrassed, like she knew he'd ask that question, but didn't want to answer. "Well..." Houtarou waited mercilessly. "To be truthful, Fukube-san-" He _knew_ it "- told me it'd be better that way, and I don't exactly know what to _bring_ to a club party." When Houtarou looked unconvinced, Chitanda leaned forward across the island and slapped her palms flat on the marble, her hair jumping. She widened her eyes desperately. "Please, Oreki-san!"

He stepped back and crossed his arms. "Chitanda-"

She dashed around the furniture and gained on him too fast to keep up. _Now_ Houtarou was scared. He backed up against the fridge. Chitanda grabbed his hands in hers and held them up. She leaned forward, eyes widening. The purple hues glittered, and Houtarou looked away before she could work her freak magic on him. "Oreki-san! Please!"

He discovered, in terror, himself glancing back down. Her pink lips pursed gently, and she leaned closer. "Oreki-san!" she whispered urgently. Her eyes were the mental equivalent of a watch rocking back and forth, only more terrifying. "Ore-" she began again.

"Okay!" Houtarou agreed, the loudness shocking him. She was much too close. His face was on fire. "Okay."

She backed away, smiling, with a delighted gasp. "Thank you!" Then she bowed at the waist, her hands folded in her lap. "Thank you, Oreki-san!" Chitanda straightened, hair bouncing, and called, "Let's go, then!"

Houtarou shrugged on a light jacket, and with a slightly bitter farewell to his elder sister, the two set out. He was immediately grateful for the clothes he was wearing; the temperature outside couldn't have been higher than mid-fifties. _I'm also grateful that summer isn't beginning early this year_ , the boy thought with a resolute nod to himself.

He glanced over at Chitanda, who was currently smiling and humming a tune in her head. "Aren't you cold?" Houtarou asked. Her dress didn't look too warm.

Chitanda looked up, almost surprised, her mouth in an o. Then she grinning, hiding sparkling teeth behind a small hand. "Of course not. I wear skirts all year 'round!"

His eyes trained forward. "Oh," he mumbled.

Most of their walk from the neighborhoods into the town was quiet. Were Fukube and Ibara here, it might not be so. Houtarou couldn't decide if he was uncomfortable with the clearly one-sided tension between him and the girl, or if he was grateful that the two other Classics Club members weren't here, bickering or teasing Houtarou or both.

In the distance, a main street rose from the horizon. It's black buildings first came into sight, and then signs of all different colors. "I smell rain," Chitanda muttered absentmindedly. He glanced at the sky. It was a clear blue, with a handful of wispy clouds. The sun shone gently on their backs. Past the green lawns, run-down houses, and the blob of color in the distance, the mountains curved around everything. Sometimes, Houtarou felt as if he were in a bowl- or a cage- dark green, leafy bars that he'd live and die in.

If anything, it smelled like freshly cut grass. With the snow finally melting a month or two back, inhabitants of Takayama took the incentive given by nature to trim their lodgings for the upcoming summer festival. It was still months and months away- wasted energy, if you would. With a lurch in his gut, Houtarou knew his sister would have them work pointlessly before she escaped to some country again.

By now, they were nearly at the shopping street. As if welcoming the pair, a shinto shrine, the entrance partially hidden by budding sakura trees, trailed off the main path directly next to the street. Chitanda perked up. "Oreki-san! For good luck?"

He shrugged. "Okay."

She led the way. In between two cleverly trimmed trees sat a red shinto gate. It was shaped like an _H_ with a roofed line on top of it, basically. Directly behind it lay a cracked stone staircase. It's height screamed _wasted energy!_ , but Chitanda went on, and so did Houtarou.

Beaming breathlessly, Chitanda waited for him at the top of the stairs. She outstretched a palm facing up, sensing his exhaustion. Houtarou clasped her hand reluctantly, being more polite than actually needing it, and let himself be pulled the rest of the way by a girl.

As if ground level wasn't elevated enough in the mountainous setting, this length up almost took his breath away. Literally. The air was thinner up here, even for the boy who grew up with elevation.

But it was beautiful.

The concrete approach to the shrine was lined with stone lanterns spotting green from age. Each were carved to look like a lantern resting on a pedestal. Houtarou didn't manage to get a good look at the creature carved into the fireboxes, or figure out which element they were representing by the height they were raised at.

To the left sat a rusting water ablution pavilion. From the view on the pathway, it looked like a rectangle of concrete that reached the waist of any average-sized adult, with a red A-shaped (but wider and without the line in the middle) roof above it, supported by four equally red square columns. 

Upon closer examination, the block of concrete was actually a water basin. This everyone knew, but it really does look like a pointless waste of concrete from a distance. A tube ran the length of the basin, with several holes in it and a water ladel to the side.

Chitanda used the ladel to spoon water over each hand, and then rinsed the utentil itself, as a motion of respect and cleansing. She lowered the ladle and backed away, letting Houtarou do the same. After they had purified themselves, they continued down the lantern-lined path.

Again, on their left, was an empty kagura palace for dancing during shrine festivals. An outside hall led to the stage, both with classic shrine roofs. The stage itself was held off the ground by short pillars beneath it. It took stairs leading from the connecting corridor to the stage in order for the dancer to actually reach it, for the floor of the stage began as high as a grown man's forehead.

On the right was a slightly better kempt shamusho, or a shrine's administrative office. Almost exactly parallel from the building across the path was a smaller and simpler version of the shinto gate strung with wooden plagues that clacked softly in the gentle wind. On the plagues were wishes for the God of this shrine, and they passed that too.

In the distance, nearer to the mountains than the wish gate it was behind, was a huddle of smaller auxiliary shrines. It showed just how large and seemingly (not at the moment) popular this God was. Finally, Chitanda stopped, in front of the largest building on the shrine's property, known as the haiden. It was the oratory. On either side of the hall of worship, raised on thrones of concrete, were the lion dogs that guarded the shrine.

The stone statues sat in an attentive shape, like a dog. They themselves had the body of a rather muscular dog, but had the head of an animal similar to a lion. Pointed ears, a curling mane and tail, a furious look. Both were nearly identical, greening. Except, one had an open mouth, baring fangs, while the other's was shut.

The haiden was tremendously large. Here the path ended, with another set of shortened stairs. They led up to a number of columns holding up the triangle-shaped roof. Charms swung from planks under the roof, chiming daintily. The inside of the oratory faded into shadows, but indubitably led to the hall of offerings that connected the worship hall to the publicly off-limits main hall, surrounded by a protective fence.

The tip of the roof of what people called "the heart of the God" was visible above the haiden. On top of both buildings were forked roof finials and short, horizontally crossing logs called katsuogi. Chitanda and Houtarou had reached the head of the stairs by now, and that was where they stopped.

Before the inside of the haiden was an offering box. Both threw a coin into it, and they tinkled against the gill-like filters before resting at the bottom. In unison, they bowed, clapped twice, bowed once more, and prayed silently. Houtarou prayed his respects and well-being to the God of this shrine.

Chitanda righted herself and sighed deeply, smiling contentedly at the haiden. After waiting in silence for a handful of seconds, they turned and left the shrine, a good feeling in their stomachs. Exiting seemed to go a lot faster than entering, and the stairs were easier to descend.

At the foot of the shinto gate and around a corner of knobbly cherry blossom branches, they reached the corner of the main street. It wasn't a _street_ , per say, but a super wide sidewalk lined with shops on both sides. The concrete was wide enough to allow several bikes, persons, and mobile shop carts to stand side by side. So Chitanda and Houtarou had no problem walking together among the bustling street of shoppers and owners.

The sounds of people, young and old and in between, the sizzling of food being made in front of many eyes, and the noises of inanimate objects- the bells on bicycles; the chimes of charms; the clacks of doors; the sloshing and splashing of a grand fountain- mixed together in a way that created one sound in itself.

Houtarou and Chitanda, for example, didn't hear the bicycle bells or the screaming tykes, nor the frying food or the fountain. They heard the sound of busy. And that was a very common sound that was often heard, everyday, in fact.

The shops advertised a wide variety of products; from clothing to ramen, and sake to good-luck charms. Signs and festival lanterns hung from metal hooks and rods nailed to the overhanging edges of the roofs currently connecting multiple stores at once, swinging back and forth. Chitanda was offered a deal on a pearly necklace, and Houtarou politely turned down the notice of mochi snacks.

"Where do we start?" Houtarou shouted over the hustle and bustle around them. He had to cup a hand around his mouth and repeat himself in order for Chitanda to understand.

She shrugged and pointed at a convenience store. "There? They might have supplies and food!" she yelled back. So they advanced on a store named _Convenient Shopping_.

The silence sent a white ringing in Houtarou's ears. He suddenly remembered that he had had a dream last night, but that the only thing he could remember of it was silence, save for a certain noise. But he just couldn't put his finger on it, and he had already forgotten everything else he remembered about it.

While shopping, Chitanda accumulated common supplies, like disposable plates and wooden chopsticks. Houtarou immediately vetoed her suggestion of party hats, receiving pursed lips and puffed out cheeks in response. They left the store with one bag in Houtarou's hand, filled with simplistic items.

The next store they visited specialized more in grocery, and here, they purchased food items and the like. Pocky, daifuku ingredients (sticky rice known as mochigome and anko fillings, with is a paste made from azuki beans)- "I'll make that, Oreki-san!" -and a package of melon pan (bread shaped like a melon with a cookie crust that does _not_ taste like melons) were among the bags.

"Figure our shopping is done?" Houtarou asked Chitanda as they left the grocery, both holding a bag or two. "That was quick."

Chitanda looked like she was concentrating immensely hard. She held her chin between her thumb and forefinger, furrowing thin eyebrows. They stood next to the store, under the roof. Finally, she looked up at Houtarou with an answer. "Let's keep looking. I'm not sure."

Fighting the urge to suck his teeth, he and her moved further down the street, passing a white fountain around the midpoint of it. The water splashing was a distinct sound as they passed it, but it faded into the busy noise once more, eventually. Chitanda seemed full of boundless energy, laughing and beaming and pointing, gasping up at Houtarou like a small child.

She was attracted to a mobile stand selling drinks. Chitanda pulled Houtarou along, who was busy gazing wonderingly at an empty bench telling him to _sit, please!_ , by his forearm. The sign of the cart read Camellia Tea. "Oreki-san! We forgot _tea_!"

They purchased a container of white tea leaves after trying samples from disposable soup spoons. Tiny cups were offered as well, and they bought those. Gradually, the flood of people seemed to be growing larger. It became nearly impossible to conversate outside, or even walk together. The pair decided to rest quickly in the nearest building, and they landed, bewildered, in a home decor section, half empty.

"Excuse me," Chitanda asked an employee who was busy restocking rugs, "Why are there so may people outside?"

The employee, a lady with curling, light brown hair streaked with blond, and gray-blue eyes, raised an eyebrow. " _Eh?_ " She was far more bewildered than the highschoolers. "You mean you don't know? The spring festival? Tonight at six?"

"A festival?" Houtarou muttered. That explained the people and the lanterns, but...

"Aren't festivals in late summer, New Year's, and at shrines?" Chitanda asked, pulling the words right out of his mouth.

The woman laughed. "Oh, but this one celebrates _spring_. This festival is pretty much local, not too common. But you two's accent are from here. How didn't you know? This is the 20th annual celebration."

Chitanda and Houtarou shared an equally shocked look. "We don't usually come to this side of town," they explained.

"Well, if you want," the worker added, "I'd stay if I were you. The lights and fireworks are _beautiful_. It's in only a few hour's time, too."

"Thank you," Chitanda called as they moved away. As if on cue, when they reached the doorway, Chitanda rounded on Houtarou. "Please see the fireworks with me, Oreki-san!"

He sighed, glaring to the side. "No way."

She inched closer. "Please!" Chitanda clenched her fingers into the chest of his jacket, closing in. The boy almost faltered, but renewed his will. _I won't give in._ "Oreki-san! I want to go with _you_!"

When her nose was so close that it could hit his cheek, two unidentified flying objects pressed into the middle of Houtarou's torso, and that, coupled with her words, unfroze his feet, and he backed away, sweating profusely. "Okay. _Okay_." That time, he hadn't even needed to meet her eyes to be wrapped around her pinkie finger. He cursed his fortune.

Chitanda clenched her fists and the expression on her face was that of utter exhilaration and uncontainable happiness. "Thank you!"

"Yeah, yeah," he breathed, and left the home department store.

The number of people was without count now. Chitanda exited the building and reached Houtarou's side. She stood on her tip toes and said into his ear, "Yakisoba?" He nodded, spotted a noodle shop, and pointed. She agreed, and they attempted to make their way through the mass. The collection of moving bodies seemed to join and make one, thriving beast. It was terribly claustrophobic.

The shop was busy with people grabbing a meal in between lunch and dinner. The two waited in line for what seemed like hours before even ordering. And with a full house, waiting for their food took even longer. Before they knew it, they'd been inside the noodle shop for almost an hour. Chitanda was called to the counter with the words "Kamiyama High?" and brought back two bowls of yakisoba. "It's so crowded in here!" she exclaimed.

They left the shop, finally, and searched for a place to eat. In no time, they found themselves back to the white fountain. As the thick basin edge around it was mostly empty, they sat there and ate soft noodles. Yakisoba was fried ramen-style wheat flour noodles (despite its name referring to buckwheat), with pork, bite-sized vegetables, and sauce. It fit with the festival setting, which may have been why the shop was so busy.

Eyeing the passerby for entertainment, Houtarou figured that the noise and populous of this street must be similar to what Tokyo was like. He'd never been there, but after today, he didn't quite want to as much as he had. On a side note, the yakisoba was a warm treat in his stomach against the cooling air.

The boy offered to toss their dishes to save trips and be polite- although it went against his motto (but Chitanda was a _girl_ )- and threw the plates away in a nearby trash can. When he returned, Chitanda was standing, rearing to go. _Somewhere._ "I'm sure there's more we need," she hollered in resolution.

She turned on the balls of her feet, and walked straight into the crowd, which was impossibly thicker than before they'd sat down, and got sucked into the tidal wave. In no time flat, Houtarou panicked. He couldn't see her. Cursing under the deafening noise, he entered near where she'd disappeared.

It was nearly impossible to stop and look around for a small bob of black hair, what with the crowd forcing him to keep moving in all sorts of directions and the tens of people around him with dark hair. With each step, he neared the line of shops on the left side. It was like the beast spit him out, Houtarou stumbling into a much clearer patch of sidewalk under the roof.

He kept pace with the movement, alongside the crowds. The boy scanned hundreds of people. More than once, he'd lurched forward to a female with long black hair tied up with a pink scrunchie, only to find her tilt her head and turn out to be a pregnant lady or an old woman grinning toothlessly.

Worry beat a jerking rhythm inside his rib cage. Chitanda could seriously get hurt in there. He searched harder and harder, fear lighting up his eyes. What would he have to tell her parents if she went missing? How would Satoshi and Ibara react if he told them he lost Chitanda?

And then he saw her.

And it wasn't a grandma, or a pregnant lady, but the real Chitanda, looking around frantically and mirroring Houtarou's expression. She mouthed shouting words that didn't reach anyone's ears.

And before he knew it, Houtarou was reaching for that girl with the black hair trapped by a pink scrunchie.

The expense of energy was unbearable, needless to say. Trying to get Chitanda as he was, like a panicked, struggling rabbit, was like trying to get Houtarou to waste energy. It was useless, unless Chitanda was involved. And if that wasn't a paradoxical metaphor, he didn't know what was.

Anyways, Chitanda had spotted Houtarou, and that was the only reason she was saved in the first place. Technically speaking, _found_ more than _saved_. She lifted a hand to get his attention- the free one, since her other was laden with bags. Her eyes widened as Houtarou stretched out his free hand until his joints ached and grabbed her's, furious. She was being dragged by him, and when they fell out of the ocean of people, all she could do was stare.

Houtarou was panting, his hands on his knees. The bags he were given hung feebly from a wrist. Wavy locks hung off him. Chitanda watched curiously, and she jumped when he snapped his head up. He'd never been more livid with her. "You _idiot_ ," he hissed. That was the first time Houtarou had ever clearly insulted Chitanda in front of her, or anyone, for that matter. She must've messed up somewhere.

"Oreki-san, I'm so-" she began, but trailed off as he righted. He looked normal now. Or bored, is what was meant.

"Forget I said that," he droned. "I'm sorry. That was rude."

Houtarou looked genuinely back to usual, and yet, it concerned Chitanda. "Oreki-san, I-"

"I passed a snack store," he said, "and the festival ought to begin in an hour or two." For the first time that day, he led the way to the destination. Chitanda bit her lip and wished he'd have yelled at her instead of acting so strange for the situation. It was the fact that he _wasn't_ acting strange that made it all the more strange, and for that, her lip bled.

The store he took her to was indeed full of sweets, and Houtarou was surprised he remembered it while running. He wanted to slap himself at the energy he wasted. He actually felt _tired_ ; and not the "I've been sitting and eating ramen all day" tired, but the "I've been chasing around a strange girl with the oddest colored eyes all afternoon" tired. Today was irritating.

Chitanda decided on her purchase mere seconds after entering the building with a nice aroma. And the title was oddly familiar. "We are _not_ buying whiskey barrels," Houtarou rumbled sternly as she showed him the box cheerfully.

Her expression fell off immediately. "But-! It's a sweeter flavor! And I won't get drunk this time. I promise!" She widened her eyes pleadingly, and Houtarou was struck.

"Fine," he found himself say, and jerked out of his trance as soon as the words left his mouth. _I did it again!_ Chitanda brightened and moved to buy it. He followed.

But when they reached the counter, Houtarou was met with a look of horror. "Oreki-san," she whispered. "I lost my wallet."

"Excuse us," Houtarou apologized, raising a hand to the indifferent cashier and tugging her to the side. "You _what_?"

Her eyes were tearing up. "I- I lost the- I lost our money- and my I.D.- Maya-chan will- she's going to-"

"I'm sure it'll turn up somewhere," he rushed, in an attempt to diffuse the situation.

She peered up at him with watery eyes. "How could I have lost it? Why didn't I notice? How, Oreki-san?" Chitanda widened her eyes and started cocking her head in that way of hers, crying, "I'm cur-"

"Okay," Houtarou interjected, closing his eyes and lifting a palm. "Was there anything of importance in it?"

"I don't think so, but-"

"Then it will show up sooner or later." Only when she stopped stuttering did he lower the hand and open his eyes. "I promise."

Her expression was taken aback. "Y-you promise?" Chitanda's eyes seemed less foggy.

_I deserve a pat on the back for my success_ , Houtarou thought, almost tearing up himself. "Yes." Not only would it stop her from buying hazardous chocolate, but he wouldn't have to waste time looking for a flap of fake leather. _Good move, Houtaro_.

"Oh, but Oreki-san! I remember now!" Chitanda wailed, and all of his achievements withered into dust. "The school card! Maya-chan will be furious! And I doubt I'll get a new school I.D. one week before break! This week's money for groceries is in there, too! Oh, Oreki-san! How did I lose it? Where is it? _I'm curious!_ "

And that's how Houtarou found himself helping Chitanda again, agitated with himself. "You probably lost it in the crowd outside."

"Oh! That's right!" As if the thought had never occurred to her. The boy seriously considered for the umpteenth time whether the school had made a mistake in her having the highest finals score.

They both took a look outside.

"Plan B," he said. "What was the last thing we bought? In case you just-so happened to _not drop it out... _there_."_

She thought for a moment. "Yakisoba!"

"Right. Maybe you left it in there."

Picking up their bags and apologizing again to the cashier, they set out to find the noodle shop. Only to jump back as a man rushed past. He seemed frustrated, eyes darting from a picture to the crowd and back again.

The guy left their minds as they hurried down the slowly filling walkway beside the crowd. A line of buyers trailed out of the noodle house, and down the sidewalk. Houtarou and Chitanda hustled past them, murmuring apologies if they ran into someone or vice versa. Glares steamrolled them as they squeezed into the compact space.

A woman was manning- er, _wo_ manning (Houtarou chuckled and immediately scolded himself for making jokes at a time like this)- the register now, ringing up customers and shouting orders. Overgrown hair curled in the stiflingly humid air inside, and she readjusted a hairband. "Order?" she asked as they cut the people in the line.

"Excuse me, have you seen a pink wallet here?" Chitanda questioned feebly.

"Customers only!" was the response.

"Please, it's very important to me."

The woman gave them an impatient look. "I didn't, and if I did I would, and I haven't, so I won't. I didn't see it, so I couldn't have, and I wouldn't lie, because I shouldn't, so I haven't. Next!"

They left feeling dizzy and confused. Chitanda broke out of the stupor first and recalled, "We visited the fountain next." Which is why they went to the fountain. The two circled the fountain, checked in the water and scanned the ground around it, but there was no trace of a pink wallet anywhere. "Maybe in a store's lost and found?" Chitanda suggested almost desperately.

Because of her suggestion, she almost got separated again two more times, and eventually, Houtarou got around to just holding her hand like a leash. Their first lost-and-found shop was a tiny art shack crammed with goods neither saw any good in, but that must have been good to a certain extent. It was called Ma(n)yHue's, and this must have been a pun off someone's last name or something, because the title was terrible.

Another woman greeted them. "Hello, welcome to MayHue's, how can I help you?" She didn't pronounce the _(n)_ part, and the _Hue's_ was supposed to be plural like _Many Hues_ , not possessive like _Hue's apples_ , so Houtarou guessed it was a visual pun. The woman, smiling politely, had wispy blonde hair and blue eyes. She had terrible Japanese also, and _foreigner_ was written all over her in twenty different languages.

"Do you have a lost and found storage?" Chitanda practically begged, not picking up on anything he had.

"No, we have no lost box," the worker replied.

Her words had the same effect as a thunderstorm on Chitanda. She drooped, mustered a weak "Thank you" and left. And speak of the devil... It came down in sheets, soaking the hoards of people lined up for the festival and darkening the sky. The sound of bags dropping startled Houtarou as he shut the door behind him. Chitanda gazed at the situation with incredulity, fell back against a concrete wall separating store, slapped her hands to her face, and began to cry.

Her shoulders slumped, she tilted her head forward, and her back hunched. Chitanda's legs gave out, and she slid to the ground meekly, without a word. Houtarou crouched beside her and waited awkwardly. "Useless..." he made out.

A pair of feet stopped in front of them. Houtarou looked up to the owner of the feet. It was a gangling man, the strange one from earlier. The one with the picture. He had wiry brown hair, sopping from the storm, and brown eyes flecked with green. Although he and the boy had similar characteristics, each were on opposite ends of the spectrum, in some way.

"Yes?" Houtarou snapped rather rudely. The creepy man was just staring at a crying girl; what else could he say?

That got his attention. The man pursed his lips and fidgeted, ears reddening. "Uh..." he fumbled in his jacket, and pulled out what the highschooler had earlier thought was a picture. It was a hard-looking, white rectangle. "Have you seen her?" He handed down the object.

Houtarou raised his eyebrows and exclaimed quietly, " _Well!_ "

Chitanda, who had meanwhile been crying silently, dropped her hands with a sniffle. It seemed her curiosity had got the better of her. Her cheeks were wet, her eyes rimmed red. Yet that all fell away when she cried, " _Oh!_ "

It was a school I.D. And on the I.D. smiled a high school-aged girl with black hair around her shoulders, short bangs, and wide, purple eyes. The card read _Kamiyama High School. Grade 10. Eru, Chitanda_. "Have you?" the man above repeated, and they realized he'd been momentarily forgotten. Chitanda stood and pointed to the I.D. "That's _me_!" she trilled exuberantly.

Houtarou stood as well. The man widened his eyes, stammered, "No way," and did the eye darting thing from the picture to Chitanda instead of the crowd behind him. "Well, I'll- I didn't even- This must be yours, then?" He grabbed a pink object from his pocket- why, her wallet!

"Yes!" And Chitanda almost cried again.

At this point, Houtarou was just glad he didn't have to deal with a crying girl. They thanked the man profusely, and when he was out of sight, she insisted they buy the whiskey barrels, promising they'd taste better (they wouldn't) and that she wouldn't get drunk (she did), she sweared!

When they entered the sweets shop, the cashier held an expression of astonishment that they were dry and annoyed recognition that they were the dead-beat customers. Chitanda found another box, and she purchased it with a gratitude that left the employee dazzled.

As Chitanda was adding the bag of chocolate to her others, a distant explosion made her jump. The pair glanced at the cashier, who had smiled and declared, "It's begun."

Another boom, and a snapping sound like the hard candy that popped on your tongue followed. Chitanda and Houtarou exited the building and looked around. The rain was still coming down, but men were on ladders lighting the lanterns. Without a sound, Chitanda moved into the crowd alone for the second time that day.

Houtarou darted nervously after her, but he needn't have worried; the moving beast had stilled its breathing. He caught up with her easily and saw that she'd stopped, watching the sky with awe. Even as he was looking at her eyes, yet another boom sounded, louder this time, and reflected a fire in her eyes. "Fireworks," Chitanda mouthed.

He noticed how dark it was outside. The rain had soaked past his clothes, into his bones, and weighed his hair down like a mop. The street was lit up with the orange glow of festival lanterns, and against the navy blue sky streamlined with dark gray clouds, a sprinkle of light burst into miniature white rockets, brilliantly stunning him.

The festival had begun. And all all Houtarou could think, as the lanterns shone, and the sky lit up, over and over again, was that the fireworks looked better in Chitanda's eyes.

~~~

"I'm surprised you guys did so well," Ibara muttered suspiciously. "Almost _too_ well..."

Houtarou deadpanned. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Now, now," Satoshi cooed, chuckling. "I hope yesterday fared well enough? That downpour was awful."

Chitanda perked up from the corner of the room. "We saw the fireworks!" She was holding a metal cylinder and cups, smiling. Of course. He hadn't considered that a thermos would keep the tea warm (Houtarou was concerned that the tea would be ice cold by the end of school).

They sat at the table in the geology room on the third floor, location of the Classics Club. It was the time of day when the sun really began to set, and it's golden rays peeked under the wide windows to the side of the table, sending a warm heat speckled with dust on the quartet.

Several aluminum foil-like wrappers lay, crumpled into tiny balls, at the hands of Chitanda as she sat, pouring the sweet white teas into cups. When she noticed Houtarou staring accusedly, a hand subtly poked the wrappers behind a white daifuku, golden near the top, and out of his sight.

"Hey, Chii-chan," Ibara whispered not-so quietly, a hand over her mouth. They sat next to each other, and Chitanda leaned over. "Oreki didn't, you know, _leave himself out_ , did he?"

_How insulting._ Houtarou furrowed his eyebrows. "I can hear you."

"No, not at all!" Chitanda cried, waving her hands and shaking her head animatedly. "If anything, he helped the most!" Satoshi and Ibara sent her a blank look, and Chitanda added. "It's true! Ab-so-lute-ly-true!" She cocked her head to each side with every dissected syllable. This was familiar.

Ibara had choppy, mahogany-colored hair, that curled just under her chin, and uneven bangs that ended high above her scarlet eyes, which was a stranger combination than even Chitanda's. Satoshi was normal enough, with straight, brown hair- lighter than Houtarou's and Ibara's- that stuck up at every angle, but his eyes were so light brown, an orange hue peeked out.

In front of Houtarou, but behind Chitanda, was a bookshelf dedicated to all the establishments of Kamiyama High's anthology. At the top shelf, by itself, sat the newest chapter, _Hyouka_.

"Ah." Ibara glanced at a clock in the hall- sometime between her usual game of critiquing Houtarou and now, she'd slunk over to peer out the sliding door. "I've got to get going to the Manga Society already. Thanks for the food, Chii-chan! ....Oreki." With a laugh and a wave, she rounded the corner and left.

Satoshi stood as well. His eyes darted madly, for some odd reason. "I should- uh- get going as well." He picked up his purple bag and snagged another daifuku. "Thanks for the treats! I'm sure the kendo club was expecting me a while ago." He rushed out, and then Chitanda and Houtarou were alone before they could object.

Chitanda giggled and said, "He likes her, doesn't he?"

Houtarou frowned at her. "It's none of our business. You're drunk, aren't you?"

"No, no!" She laughed. "I'm Chitanda Eru!"

_She was._

"Oreki-san, Oreki-san!" Chitanda called, though he was less than two feet away. "I have a _secret_ to tell you," she sang.

"What?"

"The truth is..." She pressed the tips of her fingers over her lips, looking up through a tilted head. A sprinkling of pink dashed her cheeks. "Well... I'm a _farmer_. Shh! Don't tell."

Houtarou sighed. She was the giggly drunk. "Chitanda-san, I think everyone knows that."

"I know!" she growled in frustration. "I just didn't want to tell you my _real_ secret." Chitanda hiccuped, popping a barrel in her mouth slowly.

He pushed the almost empty box away from her with two fingers and pulled out a light novel he'd been wanting to finish. "Fine by me."

The sound of wood creaking didn't faze Houtarou. "Oreki-san." He glanced over. Chitanda had stood. He couldn't tell if she was flushed from the whiskey or something else entirely. _You promised you wouldn't get drunk._

Chitanda leaned forward, gently pressing her palms to the table. Houtarou himself was leaning over the wood, his cheek in one hand, the other leafing through the book. Now his hand stopped, and his eyes widened a tad. "What-?"

The girl came nearer until he could catch a mix of Chitanda-smell (earth and sakura blossoms) and alcohol, and kept nearing. Houtarou lifted his head. He watched, spellbound, as her unusually clear eyes trained on him, drawing closer, and closer. Her lips were almost on him. Houtarou began to open his mouth to stop this, but Chitanda's lips... And then he remembered with a clarity that he'd had a dream on Saturday night, and he remembered what it was about.

They'd been in a shower, _his_ shower, the only sound being the shushing of water against the walls. His hands were on warm shoulders. Bare shoulders. Pressure was on _his_ lips. Pressure was below his abdomen. The owner of the shoulders was Chitanda.

Houtarou almost passed out from the dizziness of his recognition. Chitanda couldn't possibly come any nearer. And yet she did. She passed his lips, the skin of hers grazing his cheek, his jawline, and then his earlobe. A shallow gasp left him. He gulped.

She breathed softly in his ear. Her torso was lying on the table by now. "Oreki-san," she whispered. His heart beat wildly. Her hair was pressed against his face, and it smelled wonderful. " _You're my firework_. That's my secret." And then Chitanda promptly fell asleep, her face buried in the crook of Houtarou's neck.


End file.
